Furs: Albino Psychosis
by FXCF
Summary: Thanks to Empoleonmaster23, who allowed me to make this. In a war torn Britain, years after the destruction of america by nuclear detonation, a war is being raged. one soldier, nicknamed Traitor, goes against his own race, and fights with the so called enemy. but, tell me. who is the villain? the military who is not afraid to kill children, or the rebellion, fighting to protect?
1. Chapter 1

Okay, while I cry in pain about chapter ten on TDA:R, I had a idea. Back in 2016, I read a FNAF story called "Furs", made by "AMangledMisfit". Sadaly, Misfit is no longer on this site, and she has ended the story. But, It has been remade by the one who has allowed me to create this story, Empoleonmaster23. Check them out, and check out the remade "Furs" story, it's pretty good. Anyways, this story will revolve around a… _odd_ schizophrenic. Aaaaaand with that awkward transition, let us begin,

 _Furs: Albino Psychosis_

* * *

The sound of three, quick gun shots echoed through the old suburban town. This, is where we meet our main character, getting shot through the stomach, but standing up, shaking it off, and opening fire upon the attacker. The man who was shot was a simple 6'8, with albino white hair stopping at the base of his neck. His skin was a pale peach color, and was littered with bullet wounds. He wore a virtus body armour set with the mask on, and black visor. He quickly reloaded his old scoped Enfield EM2, and returned fire on the soldiers advancing on his position. Grabbing his last frag grenade, he pulled the pin on it and threw it, along with a flash 'nade, distracting the incoming forces. He quickly retreated from his position into a old six-story building, dropping a bouncing-betty at the front entrance, before running up the stairs to the top floor. He quickly took up position, taking shots at some of the soldiers 'nades, causing a few of them to explode. Without waist, the soldiers opened fire on his position, and both they and he took cover. Checking his ammunition, he saw that he had five left in his clip, and two clips left.

"Shite.." He mumbled, his voice a strong mix of a russian accent and a scottish accent. A sniper from across the street took a shot at him, just missing by a few inches. He turned and opened fire on the sniper, taking him down. Then, the loud whirring of a helicopter startled him, and an AgustaWestland Apache. It leveled a front mounted turret at his level. A british voice called over a loudspeaker on the chopper.

"Alright, surrender now, and we will not kill you!" the pilot called out. The man scoffed and shouted over the whining engine.

"FUCK YOU, YOU CHILD MURDERING FUCKERS!" He shouted, and in a surprise move, stood and fired a FIM-92 Stinger right at it, destroying the front of the aircraft. It quickly spiraled down, crashing into british troops, killing dozens with the crash and explosion. The man dropped the Stinger and ran, jumping from the fourth floor to the roof of another building. Before he could get far, a bullet ripped through his shoulder, the force launching him off the roof, crashing into a old car. Quickly, soldiers surrounded him, on slamming the butt of his rifle into his face, knocking him out. The last thing he heard was "We got him sir! Traitor has been apprehended!", and he dropped into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

_So, second chapter so soon, eh? Meh. anyways, I want one thing clear, I want you readers to criticize this story to hell and back will the force of Dovakin's "Booty Call" shout. (points to those who remember that comic.) Note, I, as of now, cannot cross this story with the main cannon, as I don't have permission to do so from EmpoleonMaster23. Anyways, let's begin._

* * *

 _(Traitor's P.O.V)_

* * *

I scream in pain as the guard on my left shoots my lung, and I quickly begin coughing up blood. Commander Grant, my old Commander when I was in Stallion Squadron, rubbed his eyes in tiredness.

"Listen, Nixus, if you tell us the truth, we'll let you live in a cell, and not live in hell." He tried to bargain with me, and I spat at him, blood coating his shirt.

"I am telling the truth ye fuckin moron! I would not let them kill a innocent child! It's why I signed up in the first place you fucking egg!" I barked at him. He raised his brow at my insult, but shrugged it off.

"Fine, if you want to die from execution, than be my guest. Take him to the Furs cell." the guards on both my sides nodded, and dragged my body across the facility to the high security cells, made with reinforced steel, so not even a Fur could break through, even with their magic. They believe I am working with the Furs, even though I'm not. It takes them four minutes to drag me to a cell with two Furs, and strike the back of my head with a metal baton, before throwing me in. my body limply hits the floor, along with my conscious.

* * *

 _(P.O.V switch, female Fur)_

* * *

Me and my brother's heads shoot up as the guards open the door, whacking a horribly wounded human in the head with a baton, before throwing the unconscious man in our cell. The two guards chuckle lightly at me shuffling into my brother's side. They shut the door and walk away. I inch over to the body, confused why they would throw one of their own in here. My tail twitched, and my brother groaned. I got up and rolled the human onto his back, backing up quickly in both a case of if he attacked, and absolute shock. His stomach was heavily bandaged, and his side had a bullet hole in it. In the middle of his chest was a tattoo of a seven pointed star, and on his shoulder a simple pentagram. On the side of his neck was a circle with a crescent moon like shape on top and star in the middle of it. Thanks to my old education in ancient symbols, I could tell that the symbols were Wiccan in nature, most importantly the Horned God symbol, the Pentagram, and the Elven Star. Why he had those specific symbols, I had no idea, but his face caught my attention. Sharp chin, sunken in cheeks, scar from his upper lip to his forehead, albino white hair stained with his blood. I opened one of his eyes, seeing that his iris was was surprisingly small, and colored dark purple. I close his eye-lid, and I looked closer at his body. Near his waist was a long, shallow cut, starting near the middle of his side, ending under his navel. All he wore was a pair of torn camo jeans. I carefully nudge his body, and he twitched. I stumbled back, startled as he groaned in pain, his eyes opening a small bit, before covering his eyes with his hand, as the light probably was brighter than the sun to him.

"Fuck…" He mumbled in pain, and rolled over.

* * *

 _Apologies for a short chapter, but fuck it. I should note that I usually am only able to post on the weekends. Have a good rest of your day, comrades._


End file.
